


Lust

by Ely_Baby



Series: The Seven Deadly Sins [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ely_Baby/pseuds/Ely_Baby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione finds out at her own expenses how powerfully devastating Draco's obsession can be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lust

**Author's Note:**

> I'm celebrating my first two reviews on Adult FanFiction by adding another one-shot here. I'm not a native English speaker, hence every intelligent review is very important to me. It helps me to improve my English. This is the third one-shot of my "The Seven Deadly Sins" series, check out "Envy" and "Sloth" if you liked this one. Lovely Rachel275 beta-read this. Happy reading!

 ***

_Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,_  
 _But Lust's effect is tempest after sun;_  
 _Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain,_  
 _Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done;_  
 _Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies;_  
 _Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies._  

Shakespeare, Venus and Adonis

***

Draco Malfoy didn’t know who to blame for his obsession. In the beginning he had thought about Pansy Parkinson, then about Blaise Zabini, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and finally about Hermione Granger herself. But no answer was fully satisfying and Draco had come to the conclusion that it was just an ensemble of things that had brought his mind to concentrate only and always on just one person. Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger and her petite, unimportant body, so well covered under her school robes that every time Draco got a glimpse of her skin it was an event, and every time the Slytherin saw her smooth, pink skin, his heart skipped a beat.

Little by little, Draco’s mind started to imagine things that, he was sure, would have never happened: a frantic shag in a broom closet; his hands caressing her where she was most sensitive during classes, under her friends’ eyes; his lips on her breasts while they patrolled the halls at night. His heart leapt every time he saw the brunette sucking a Sugar Quill or moving her hair away from her neck; his pupils widened in lust when she crossed her legs; his hands moved involuntarily towards his crotch when she unbuttoned her shirt a little and displayed her sweaty skin.

He knew that it was just a matter of time before he would start to masturbate with a moving picture portraying the Gryffindor girl in his hands. Nonetheless everything happened far more quickly than he had expected, and soon things started to get out of hand for Draco.

***

“By the way, you’ll never guess who I saw in the shower two days ago,” said Pansy, stretching her legs and arms in a bored gesture on one of the armchairs in the Slytherin common room.

Draco raised his eyes from the essay he was writing. “Millicent?” he asked tentatively. “If it’s Millicent I don’t want to know.”

Pansy laughed one of her trilling laughs. “No, you silly boy,” she replied, purring like a cat, “it was Hermione Granger.”

Draco’s quill stopped on the parchment, he looked at the girl sitting across from him and tried to pretend he wasn’t interested in whatever she wanted to say about Hermione Granger. “Really?” he asked, trying to sound casually. “Again?”

Pansy nodded. “Again,” she confirmed, “her and that Weasley-girl. They were taking a shower with their fellow Gryffindors and were occupying all of the showers in the girls’ bathroom.” She snorted. “I had to wait for hours.”

“That’s really interesting,” grunted Draco, lowering his eyes back on his essay. “Don’t you have homework to do?”

Pansy glared at him, her hand flew to her hair as she unnecessarily smoothed her already straight hair. “They were all naked, you know,” she continued. “I think you would have enjoyed it.” She kept her eyes on him, trying to spot if he was having any kind of reaction to her words.

“Sure,” replied Draco calmly, raising his eyes again. “Were they a nice view?”

“You want me to describe them for you?” asked Pansy, looking into his eyes.

Draco shrugged. “If you really insist.”

“I could tell you about her fleshy waist or her big tits,” she purred, “but you would surely get bored. I’m more beautiful than she is. I’m thinner, and my features are finer.”

“Weren’t you talking about her?” asked Draco softly.

Pansy sneered. “Are you interested in a Mudblood?”

“I’ll tell you after you’ve described her for me,” replied Draco calmly, bringing his eyes back to his essay again.

Pansy stood up from her armchair and with noiseless movements went to sit on the armrest next to Draco, she sneaked one arm behind his back and the other down on his belly, resting it above his navel. She lowered her mouth close to his ear and nibbled at it. “What do you want to know?” she whispered in his ear.

Draco smiled. He leaned against the back of the armchair and closed his eyes while Pansy slipped into his lap, her skirt raising a little around her thin legs.

“How was she?” he asked flatly.

Pansy leaned her head next to his neck and started to suck and bite his sensitive skin, murmuring Hermione’s description against his flesh. “She had her hair soaked with water, it fell all over her face with some heavy, wet curls. It reached down to her breasts,” she started. “Her skin was smooth and darker than mine. It was flawless and hairless, like that of a kid.”

Draco smiled without noticing, he placed a hand on Pansy’s bottom and pulled her to him.

“Her boobs are big,” she continued, “and her nipples are dark and large. Those school robes are far too chaste to show how big they are, but if you saw her without anything at all you would definitely notice them.” She snuck a hand up to his neck and purred like a cat. “Her belly isn’t as flat as mine, she has a little too much flesh, and under it her hair is brown and not black.” She laughed shrilly in anticipation. “Her hands kept on wandering down there, maybe Weasley doesn’t satisfy her.”

Pansy felt something growing bigger under her bottom, she let go of Draco’s neck and brought her hand down to his trousers. She backed away and looked surprised at the boy. “Are you excited?” she asked slowly. “Are you excited because of my description of that Mudblood?”

Draco pushed her away, and stood up. “I’m not excited because of her,” he said quickly, flushing slightly. “It was your ass on me.”

Pansy laughed, she grasped at his belt and attracted him to her. “Let me see what I can do to remedy your embarrassment,” she said, busying her fingers around his zip.

Draco grinned. “Good girl,” he said as she kneeled in front of him and freed his erection. He gripped her hair in his hands and directed his cock to her lips. She took it in her mouth and swallowed all of its length, making it disappeared into her warm cavern.

Draco moaned, his hips bucking with force against her mouth, his hands bringing her mouth closer to him. Every time he pushed he felt the back of her mouth against the top of his penis. He heard her make some funny, little noises as if she was going to throw up, but he didn’t stop.

On the contrary, his movements became suddenly quicker, and his fingers convulsed around her hair as he came in her mouth. He pushed her head against his cock and spilled all his hot seed into her fleshy passage. Pansy swallowed and choked a little, then she brought her hands up to his and freed herself from his firm grasp.

He let her go and fell back on the armchair, his cock empty and his limbs flabby. Pansy crawled on the floor, cleaning the seed that had escaped from the corners of her mouth. Her beautiful face was flushed as she looked up at Draco.

Draco smiled and, gripping her arm, he pulled her to him and kissed her, tasting his own tang on her lips. He brought a hand down on her bottom and started to caress her crack between her cheeks.

Unexpectedly Pansy moved away from his hand. “You don’t like her, do you?” she asked, breaking the kiss.

Draco backed away a little and looked into her eyes, trying to understand if she was joking or if she was mad. She looked perfectly serious.

“Your doubt isn’t even worth an answer,” he replied and, pulling the girl to her feet, he stood up and walked away.

***

Draco sat in a corner of the library, near the Restricted Section. The blond boy had his nose stuck in a book that talked about Dark Spells; his legs swung lazily under the table and his tie was knotted loosely around his neck.

From his seat the boy had a nice view of the library, and at the same time he was hidden from indiscreet eyes. He liked to cast a glance every now and then to the people who were sitting around him. Especially if there were some Hufflepuffs around. He could have cast them a wordless spell without even being detected, and he usually did it. Thanks to that mischievous hobby he had become quite excellent in casting unvoiced charms. Almost as good as Hermione Granger.

Shoes clicked on the wooden floor and Draco raised his eyes to see Hannah Abbott walking before him with her books in her arms, her blonde hair falling tidily around her face. She went to sit at a big table under the window and opened her Herbology book on the chapter about the uses of Oriental plants in Chinese traditional medicine. Instead of starting to study however, she began to stare at the door.

Draco raised his eyebrows and shook his head, a scornful sneer on his lips, she was surely waiting for someone. He turned his attention back to the book in his lap and reached the part about Unforgivable Curses, something that he had already studied two years before, but that he had always found extremely interesting and very useful.

Another pair of shoes clicked on the floor and caused Draco to raise his eyes again. This time it was Neville Longbottom who approached, his round face was brightened by a warm smile as he hurried towards the table where Hannah sat.

Draco frowned slightly, he looked from the Gryffindor to the Hufflepuff and back again. Their eyes were burning with happiness and their smiles were going from one ear to the other. Draco chuckled, he classified both those students in the losers category, and the fact that they fancied each other caused Draco to rejoice since his first thought was that he would have a lot of new wonderful opportunities to make fun of them in public.

He observed Neville as he sat down next to Hannah, and made her flush. Draco felt a wave of sickness, and at the same time he didn’t understand how someone could blush because of Neville Longbottom, he was just the dumb boy that nobody understood why he was in Gryffindor.

“This was on the floor,” said Justin Finch-Fletchley, snapping Draco out of his thoughts.

Draco looked up at him, the boy was standing in front of him, in his hands a little notebook covered in leather. He cast a glance at Draco as if he had just noticed that he was  _him_  and, placing the notebook on the table, Justin disappeared between two high shelves covered with potions books.

Draco took the notebook in his hands, it was small and smooth, with some little golden letters that spelled Diary on the cover. Was Justin Finch-Fletchley suggesting that he kept a diary? Not a Malfoy, naturally. He had to fight the urge to follow the Hufflepuff between the shelves and hex him. Instead he opened the first page of the notebook.

On the very first page was written the name of the owner, in a cured, almost feminine, handwriting; and when Draco saw it he felt as if Christmas had arrived early that year.

“Neville Longbottom,” he mouthed silently, sneering. That was an unexpected coincidence, and he couldn’t believe his fortune. In that diary he would have surely found Neville’s most secret and embarrassing thoughts. He could give some pages to Peeves and then the whole school would make fun of the Gryffindor. Lovely idea, indeed.

He opened it and flipped lazily through its pages, reading every now and then where he recognised some names. The first fifty pages were about his grandmother, and then finally there were some pieces about Hogwarts students. He skimmed through the text.

_I’m feeling so well now that I don’t have to take Potions anymore… Hermione said that she’ll help me with Transfiguration… Ron could have also been a bit nicer with Ginny, she didn’t… Hannah is looking at me again or am I just imagining things?... Hermione was crying for Ron again… Hermione has such a nice mouth when she smiles… Ginny told me that she needed help with Herbology, she said she would have paid me with Chocolate Frogs… and I told Harry that she wouldn’t have done that… Why do I have to like someone as perfect as Hermione?_

Draco stopped turning the page, he went back and looked for the paragraph where he had read the last sentence. He chuckled softly and raised his eyes to look at the unaware Neville. “Well done, Longbottom,” he whispered mischievously, “you are all nice with Abbott and then you like Granger. Let’s see what you wrote about Miss Perfection.”

He searched for the exact point where Neville started to talk about the bushy-haired Gryffindor Prefect and mentally read it.

_Hermione helped me with my Charm homework last night, she said that all I need is more practice; if that’s really all I need to become a good student, I will never practice at all… I want her to give me private lessons for my whole life._

Draco sighed, that was definitely too soppy for him.

_We are sitting together in the common room and she is so close to me that I could count the spare freckles on her nose; actually, she has twelve. She has the reddest lips ever, and her teeth are straight, white and of just the right length. I know that she’s the daughter of a couple of people that work with teeth (Teethist? Dentrust?) and that she resized them in our fourth year, but they are really perfect, and I can’t stop staring at them when she’s so close to me._

Draco counted with his fingers, Neville had written five lines about Hermione’s teeth, could someone spend so many words on that subject? Yes, maybe, if the writer was obsessed with the subject.

_Her breath is scented of flowers and her eyes are like milk chocolate, and I love the way her hair curls around her face. Her complexion is so white, I think she spends too much time in her books._

Draco was impressed. Neville knew how to spell ‘complexion’. He went on reading, but now the boy’s writing became smaller.

_Grandma wouldn’t want to hear me talking about this, but her breasts are wonderful as well…_

Now Draco gulped, his eyes widening with surprise. Was this becoming an interesting read?

_…she leaned against my shoulder yesterday and she pressed her chest against my back. I had to get away from her if I didn’t want to have an… Well, I flushed and started to stammer like an idiot, I wonder what she thought of me. And later on, when she was explaining to me about unspoken spells, I couldn’t keep my eyes away from her chest._

Draco closed his eyes for a minute.  _Are Granger’s tits so wonderful as to be worthy of such a praise?_  he wondered and slowly started to think about her chest. Yes, like every boy in the school he had been attracted by girl’s bosoms, and now that he thought about her, she had quite nice curves under her school robes, and they were surely bigger than Pansy’s. Pansy herself thought that. He shook his head, what was he thinking about?

_She also has lovely legs, they are small and white and smooth. She keeps on brushing my own legs with hers and I always feel like electricity is going through my body. And when she laughs and her breasts start to bounce I can’t tear my eyes away from her. I’m afraid she might realise that I like her…_

Draco snorted. She had to be stupid to not understand that Neville fancied her, and Hermione wasn’t stupid at all. So she knew, but what did she do about the situation? Did she ignore him? Draco shook his head, what did he think those things for? He didn’t give a damn about Neville and his crushes, especially if he talked about Hermione Granger.

But after reading those few lines in his diary, Draco found himself fantasizing about Hermione Granger’s breasts. He closed his eyes and pushed his feet against the legs of the table, rocking his chair slowly as he started thinking about the brunette.

Neville had written that she aroused him only by brushing her breasts against his back, he wondered how they would feel on his bare skin. He imagined himself touching her legs and going up and up and up until he reached her…

“You are a bastard, Malfoy,” snapped someone close to him. Before Draco could understand what was happening, that same someone was pushing him backwards, making him fall on the floor and bang his head on the wood.

Draco cried out in pain, blinked and tried to focus on his harasser, his sight blurred by the pain that was spreading through his head. He felt the diary being torn from his hands and when he managed to see the face of the boy that was towering over him he found himself staring into Neville’s eyes.

“Mind your own business, you bastard,” continued Neville.

Hannah was standing next to him, her hands on her face in a surprised gesture, as if she didn’t expect Neville to react that way with anybody, not even with Draco.

Draco tried to swing his legs over the turned upside down chair and to stand up, but the pain was too strong to even let him move. “Are you mental, Longbottom?” he hissed in pain.

“Don’t you dare read my diary ever again,” hissed Neville back, his tone threateningly as it has never been, not even with Voldemort.

“I’ll do whatever I want,” replied Draco, pushing with his hands on the floor and trying to stand up, “read your diary, hex that Abbott girl, fuck your little friend Granger--”

Neville punched him on the nose, so hard that Draco felt a loud crack coming from it followed by an incredibly sharp pain. He saw Hannah Abbott’s arm zooming in front of his eyes as she grabbed Neville and dragged him away, running for their lives before some Slytherin could rush to help Draco.

***

Hermione pushed the door of the Hospital Wing open and walked inside, her long curls swinging around her face like a soft, vaporous cloud. Her steps echoed in the empty room as she walked towards Madam Pomfrey’s office. She took a deep breath and knocked softly on the door, then stood still waiting patiently for an answer.

A clock tolled five in the afternoon. Madam Pomfrey should have been in her office. She never left the Hospital Wing, especially not during her working hours, and so Hermione knocked another time, faithfully, before clearing her throat and calling her name. “Madam Pomfrey?” she said out loud. “Are you in there?”

“There’s no one here,” said someone at Hermione’s back.

The brunette jumped, turning suddenly and finding herself looking into the face of a blond boy in Slytherin robes. She brought a hand to her heart and felt her increased heartbeat. “Malfoy,” she gasped.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Did I scare you, Granger?” he asked, his voice low. He made his eyes travel from her face down to her chest, sides and legs, trying to understand if Neville was just a loser with a crush on the girl next door or if he really knew what he was talking about when he described her. Apparently, the Gryffindor boy knew perfectly well what he talked about.

“Where’s Madam Pomfrey?” she asked coolly, regaining some of her composure. She tossed some of her curls behind her ear, stopping her hair from obscuring her sight, and looked at Draco with her chocolaty eyes wide.

Draco shrugged. “She took care of my nose and went away,” he replied vaguely, crossing his arms on his chest. “Why? Do you need her?” he asked.

Hermione cast him a cold glare. “I’ve a headache,” she replied, “what about you? What happened to your nose?” she asked, faking interest.

Draco’s eyes suddenly became two fissures. “Your friend Longbottom broke it,” he hissed.

Hermione’s eyes widened and on her face appeared a surprised grin. “Really?” she asked, happiness in her voice. “Neville would do something like that? Why?”

“Just because I was reading his diary,” replied Draco nonchalantly.

“You were –  _what_?” asked Hermione, scandalized.

Draco nodded. “And he talked a lot about you, you know,” he said, his voice lowering a little. He took a step forward and sneered. “You want to know what he said?”

Hermione looked disgusted. “No,” she replied firmly, “you’re disgusting, Malfoy.” Her face darkened and, raising her chin in a haughty gesture, she walked past him, heading towards the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked, stepping backwards and standing right in front of her.

Hermione raised her eyes a little to look into his grey pools. He was so close to her that she could still smell the blood that had invaded his nose and chin until a few minutes before. “To my dorm,” she replied sully, “as if that was any of your concern.”

“You know,” murmured Draco, taking a step forward and causing Hermione to step back, “Longbottom had written so many things about you, and I would love to see how good his imagination is.” He looked at her bosom. “Or if he wasn’t imagining at all.”

Hermione frowned. “What are you talking about, Malfoy?” she asked nervously. “I don’t have time to waste with you.”

Draco laughed. “You hurt me, Granger,” he replied, taking another step and then another, causing her to back away again, like a cat would do with a mouse. “Remember that I’m a Pureblood, if I want you to stay here there’s no way that you’ll be able to catch up with Weasel and Potty, before I’ve finished with you.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “And what would a Pureblood like you do with a Muggle-born like me?” she asked, snorting. “Isn’t Parkinson waiting for you in some broom closet?”

“She is  _definitely_  waiting for me, Granger,” he replied, “but she can wait forever, since I first want to play a bit with you.” Once again he stepped forward and when Hermione stepped back, her back went crashing against the wall, near the door of Madam Pomfrey’s office.

The Gryffindor gulped softly, her eyes darting towards the door on the other side of the room, the exit that now seemed so far away. She looked back at Draco and turned her nose up at him. “You have to pay attention, Malfoy,” she said threateningly, “you can get hurt if you want to play with me.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. “It’s a risk that I don’t mind taking,” he replied. He brought both his hands up next to her head, and leaned his palms on the wall behind her. “You know what Longbottom said about you? That you’ve got wonderful boobs,” he said.

Hermione took a step to the right, trying to walk away, but Draco’s arm held her back and he sent her against the wall another time. “You’re disgusting, Malfoy,” she hissed again, hitting the wall with her shoulder blades, “Neville would never say something like that.”

Draco smirked, he bent forwards and brought his mouth to her ear. “Are you sure?” he asked softly, “why don’t you ask to read it, then?”

“Because it’s private,” she replied, turning her head away. “Now let me go, I need to go to the library before dinner.”

Draco sniggered. “Library, library, library,” he mocked, “weren’t you going to your dorm? Anyway, Longbottom was right, you are so stupid that you don’t even notice him lusting after you.”

“As I’ve already said, Malfoy,” hissed Hermione, “you’re disgusting, and you have to stop talking about those things.”

Draco laughed. He brought his head close to hers and kissed her on her cheek. He felt her shivering with fear under his lips, her hands going suddenly to his chest to push him away.

“Oh stop it,” he blurted out, moving back, “what if  _I_  pushed you?” He brought his hands to her chest and touched her breasts, pinching them through her school robes.

Hermione let out a cry of surprise and pushed his hands away. “Are you insane, Malfoy?” she asked breathlessly, managing to move away from her position against the wall and bringing her hands to cover her offended chest.

Draco turned and sneered at her. “I love when I take Pansy up against a wall,” he said as if that explained everything, “I simply couldn’t resist, and after all Longbottom is right, your tits are big and lovely to the touch.” He looked at her with lusting eyes. “I would love to see if your bottom is as lovely as your boobs.”

He walked towards her so quickly that Hermione didn’t even have the time to understand what he was doing before feeling his hands on her bottom. She jumped in surprise as he pushed her up, his hands trying to roll up her skirt.

“Malfoy!” she managed to scream when she felt his fingers wandering around her rear hole. “Let me go.”

He let go of her bottom cheeks, stepping back and laughing hard. “You should see your face, Granger,” he exclaimed, “come on, you can tell me that you liked my hands on you.”

She gritted her teeth and, moving quickly, she brought her hand to his face and slapped him hard on his cheek as she had done in their third year when he was rejoicing about the upcoming Buckbeak’s death.

He stopped laughing at once and glared at her, his cheek becoming red in a few seconds. “Don’t you dare do something like that again, you  _Mudblood_ ,” he hissed.

“No,” she hissed back, “don’t  _you_  dare touch me.” As she ran away, Draco followed her with his eyes. He liked her fleshy body under his hands, she aroused him, and he liked the idea of making her suffer. His mouth twitched in a sneer when a mischievous idea brushed his mind.

 _Oh, I’ll dare_ , he thought,  _you don’t even know how much I’ll dare._

***

Ron walked past Lavender without even looking at her, but Lavender glared at him as always. Ron felt the eyes of the blonde girl on his back until he disappeared around the corner of the corridor, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have time to waste at that moment. He hurried towards the library and entered without even looking at Madam Pince, who glanced distractedly at him and shushed his clicking steps as usual.

When he finally reached the person he was looking for, Ron slowed down and smiled in anticipation. He approached a desk near the window and placed his hands on it. “I have some spare time,” he said cheerfully.

Hermione raised her eyes to him and frowned. “Spare time?” she asked in a hushed voice. “I thought you had Quidditch practice today.”

Ron sat across from her. “Have you looked out of the window? There’s the most terrible snowstorm of the last few years,” he said, nodding towards the windowpane behind her.

Hermione turned and looked through the glass at the white sight that lay before her, her eyes widening in amazement. “Oh, it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked softly.

“Yeah, yeah,” replied Ron dismissively, “come on.” He took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Hey,” she protested, freeing herself from him, “I need to finish my homework.” She sat back on the chair and looked at Ron with a naughty smile on her face.

“Oh, come on, Hermione,” he replied, kneeling in front of her and placing his hands on her legs. “As soon as the storm is over, Harry will force us to make up for the lost time and have double trainings.”

“And that is of my concern because?” she asked, grinning.

“Oh, Hermione,” exclaimed Ron exasperated, “you know what I need.” He ran his hands up, under her skirt. “Just a bit of distraction.”

Hermione looked around herself, instinctively making sure she was alone with her boyfriend. She brought a hand to her leg and stopped Ron’s fingers, which had almost reached her knickers. “Ron,” she said sternly, “not here. We are in the library, you know that I don’t like to play these games. What if someone sees us?” She looked particularly for Draco Malfoy, who she didn’t want to be in the same room with since the day he had showed that insane interest towards her.

Ron’s hands slid back to her knees and he started to massage her forelegs, rolling his eyes. “Well, let’s go somewhere then,” he said, faking a pout.

“I have to study,” she replied, trying hard to ignore the delicious sensations that Ron’s hands were giving her.

“Hermione,” he called her in a sing-song voice. “Why don’t we go to the Common Room? Or the Prefects’ Bathroom? There’re not many people there.” He stood up and closed her book, gaining a scowl from his girlfriend. “And you need a break.”

Hermione’s scowl slowly melted in a grin when he grabbed her hand and pulled her on her feet again, pulling her petite body to him. He made his hands slide behind her back as he hugged her, he brought his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Where do you want to go?”

Hermione let out a giggle and murmured back, “Prefects’ Bathroom.” She freed herself from Ron and gathered her things from the table; she smiled again when Ron took her hand and started to drag her out of the library and towards the closest Prefects’ Bathroom.

They walked past Neville, but didn’t stop to talk to him, even though the poor Gryffindor boy called Hermione’s name a couple of times and even started to ask her something about their Charms homework.

“I’ll be in the library in a few minutes, Neville,” replied Hermione, trying to keep up with Ron’s pace. “Wait for me there.”

“A few minutes?” asked Ron, slowing a little when they left. “What do you mean? Tell him a couple of hours.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I don’t think that you’ll need two hours, Ron,” she replied, stopping in front of the closest Prefects’ Bathroom door.

Ron pushed the door open, and then he gently pushed Hermione into the bathroom. They stopped in their tracks when they saw the tub filled with hot, coloured and scented water, they looked around carefully, but weren’t able to get a glimpse of anybody.

“Hey?” called Ron. “Is anyone there?”

The only answer that reached his ears was the echo of Ron’s words.

“Maybe it’s someone that forgot to take the plug out,” suggested Ron, as he took the books from Hermione’s hands and put them on a chair. He surrounded Hermione’s waist with his arm and pulled her once again to him, planting a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Never mind the water.”

Hermione placed her hands on his forearms and backed away a little. “Are you sure?” she asked, looking at Ron into his eyes.

Ron nodded. “Nobody answered,” he replied, then he smiled mischievously and his hands slid inside her skirt from above. “Come on,” he continued, his voice now low with lust, “Harry will be looking for me soon.”

“Should I be jealous?” asked Hermione playfully, cocking her neck as he started to kiss, suck and bite her throat.

“No, because I don’t do with Harry what I do with you,” he murmured on her skin, caressing her with his hot breath.

She giggled and, cupping Ron’s cheek, she raised his face to hers and kissed him on the lips. She sucked and bit her way into his mouth, and she didn’t have to wait long before her tongue met Ron’s and they started to stroke each other with force.

Hermione moaned into Ron’s mouth when his hands slipped under her knickers and traced the line between her bottom cheeks. She shivered a little and pressed her body against him, in a desperate attempt to have every part of her skin against his.

Ron’s hand pressed against her rear hole and he entered the tip of his index finger into her, causing her to grip his upper arms with force and shiver. She moaned in his mouth again and let him go. “The door,” she managed to say the moment Ron pushed his finger further into her.

“The door what?” asked Ron, bringing his free hand to her breasts and starting to massage her nipples through the material.

“Lock it,” groaned Hermione.

“My hands are busy now,” he replied playfully.

“Ron,” she said, bringing a hand to her breast and stopping Ron’s fingers from giving her more pleasure.

Ron looked at her and sighed in frustration, then something crossed his mind and he grinned. “You didn’t stop my other hand, though,” he said triumphantly.

Hermione frowned at him and shook her head slowly in disapproval. “Ron, if you want me to go then--”

“ _Clauso_!” Ron looked at her and smiled. “Where were we?”

Hermione grinned back, then she brought a hand to Ron’s trousers and gripped his cock through his robes. “I don’t know,” she said, “but I know where we’ll be soon.”

Ron bit his bottom lip as her hands started to slide up and down his length. “Which is?” he asked, his voice coming out a bit more hoarsely than he had expected.

“On the floor,” she whispered, and before she could even nibble at his ear a little, Ron raised her a couple of inches from the ground, his hand slipping out of her knickers, and lay her gently on the cold floor, where she shivered.

“Cold?” he asked, kneeling next to her.

“Nothing that can’t be reversed soon,” she replied, standing a little to finally unzip Ron’s trousers and free his erection, which was already stood up. She wrapped her hand around it and frowned slightly. “Either you’ve got something hot in your pocket, or you’re heating up,” she said, a grin over her face.

Ron rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a small coin, just like the one Hermione had given the members of Dumbledore’s Army two years before. On one face of the coin there was a number, while on the other there was a man on a broom.

“What does it say?” asked Hermione, a bit of delusion in her voice.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Training in five minutes,” he replied, “but I won’t go.” He placed the coin back into his pocket and grinned at Hermione.

The girl scowled back at him “Of course you will,” she replied.

“And interrupt us like this?” he snorted. “Forget it, I feel like I could explode if I don’t…”

“Interrupt? Who’s ever talked about interrupting anything here?” asked Hermione as a smirk appeared on her face. “Didn’t you know? Men only need eighteen seconds.”

Ron licked his lips, he liked when Hermione talked about those things. She had that serious and scientific air even when she talked about awkward subjects like sex. He just hoped he lasted more than eighteen seconds. He lowered his trousers and pants to halfway down his claves, and went back to work on Hermione’s body, who now lay completely on the floor.

He raised her skirt without warning and pushed her knickers down, discovering a brown nest of curls between her legs which was already glistening with the juices of her arousal. He cupped her bottom cheeks and raised her from the floor whilst he positioned himself at her entrance.

She put her ankles over his shoulders and threw her head back, moaning as he pushed his penis into her warm folds. He went as far as he could and when his balls almost touched her bottom, he stopped, looking tentatively at Hermione’s face.

Hermione licked her lips, but from her position she couldn’t look back at him, she just pushed a little against him to let him know that he could go on. Ron started to slide his penis in and out of her crack, at the beginning at a slow pace and then, every second that passed, he went faster and deeper into her.

Hermione arced her back, pushing her breasts up into the air. Ron could see that her nipples were hard even through her shirt. Her red and gold tie bumped from her cleavage to her sides, following the rhythm that Ron was giving with his pumping.

Hermione’s breath started to come out in shorts puffs and Ron’s with hers. Her tender pubic hair brushed his cock, her juices slicked it and her scent intoxicated him, making him crazy with arousal. He let out a grunt and increased his pace even more.

When he felt close to his climax he brought his right hand to her clitoris and started to push at it with his thumb, making her thrash and moan on the bathroom’s floor.

Finally his cock started to throb and with a cry Ron came into her, his eyes rolled back into his head from the pleasure and his pace slowed a little while he tried to shelter himself into her as deep as he could. With his last thrust, he felt Hermione’s walls contract around him and with a cry she came as well.

He collapsed on her body, still inside of her, their chests raising at the same time as they waited for their breath to go back to normality. Finally Hermione took a deep breath and moved slightly under him. “You’ve got to go,” she murmured to him.

Ron grunted something incomprehensible and didn’t move.

“Harry will come looking for you,” she continued softly.

“I don’t care,” murmured Ron.

She giggled and pushed at him. “Come on, Ron,” she whispered.

Ron snorted, he pushed his palms on the floor and stood up, grunting at the same time. He pulled his pants up and fastened his zip, he watched as Hermione pushed her skirt down and pulled her knickers up. She smiled maliciously at him and, picking up her books from the chair, she followed him out of the bathroom. They kissed and hugged each other, while the door closed at their backs.

In the silence which they had left the bathroom, a toilet door creaked and Draco Malfoy climbed down from the W.C., looked at his hand and flushed. His palm was covered with his come.

He cleaned his hand on a towel and threw it away with fury, cursing Hermione Granger out loud. If he had come just by looking at her still dressed up body while she had sex with Ron Weasley, what would he have done if he took her? He shivered at the thought, a shiver of rage and anticipation. A shiver of pleasure. He wanted her. He wanted her, and he was going to have her. Soon. Very soon. That was a promise.

***

“What are you doing, Malfoy?”

Draco raised his eyelids and looked at the boy who was towering over him. The boy’s ebony skin a smooth mask of surprise as he looked at Draco.

Draco reached for the edge of the table in front of him and pushed at it with his palm, sitting up on the couch and rubbing his grey eyes with his fists. “What does it look like, Zabini?” he asked back, his voice still hoarse with sleep.

Blaise circled the couch and sat down across from Draco, his hands joined on his legs. “It looked like you were having one of those dreams,” he said casually, “who was  _she_  this time?”

Draco frowned slightly, trying hard to remember who he had been dreaming about in the last few hours that he’s been lying there in the Slytherin common room before being disturbed by his fellow housemates.  _Yes, there was a girl…_

“Was she enjoyable at least?” asked Blaise, filling up the silence that Draco hadn’t noticed.

The blond boy looked at him, his eyebrows slightly raised. “Definitely,” he replied coldly, “very enjoyable.”

“Pansy?”

Draco shook his head. It wasn’t Pansy this time, it was different, she had more flesh around her bones and her hair was longer and curlier and her chocolaty eyes were…

“Malfoy, you all right?”

“What?” asked Draco, looking at him as if he saw him for the first time.

“You seem even paler than usual, which is quite incredible if you ask me,” pointed out Blaise. “Who was this girl you were having such a good time with in your dreams? Bullstrode?” He chuckled, picturing the scene in his mind.

“What was I doing?” asked Draco, frowning.

“Well, moaning, that’s for sure,” replied Blaise, “and quite loudly, too. I was studying in the dorm and you disturbed me.”

“And?” he urged his friend. “Did I say anything? No names?”

“If I heard a name, I wouldn’t be here asking you about it, would I?” Blaise asked sensibly, he glanced at Draco and smirked. “Is it really so embarrassing?”

“Mind your own business,” snapped Draco darkly, “if it wasn’t for you I would have forgotten about that stupid dream when I awakened.”

“Wow,” murmured Blaise, “it must really be embarrassing, then. Was it Potter? Maybe there’s something about you that you’ve not told me.”

“Worse than Potter,” said Draco, sitting up, “is that enough for you?”

“Weasley?” asked Blaise, following Draco with his eyes to capture any change in his expression. “Longbottom?”

“Sod off, Zabini,” muttered Draco, walking towards the portrait hole.

“It was Granger, wasn’t it?”

Draco stopped in his track, he turned and laughed nervously. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said.

“Then why did you say her name?” asked Blaise, leaning against the back of the couch, his hands behind his head, his legs crossed.

Draco’s pale complexion flushed red from the joint feelings of rage and embarrassment. He hated those stupid mental games. He reduced Blaise to dust with a glare and marched out of the common room, without another word to him.

On the couch, Blaise licked his lips and smirked seductively to nobody in particular.  _You’re so fucked up, Malfoy_ , he thought, before going back upstairs to finish his homework.

***

Draco took a deep breath and smirked in the dark. What he had just done was advanced Dark Magic, that was sure; and even if it lasted for only a few seconds it was enough to make him feel extremely pleased with himself.

An unvoiced Imperio Curse was something that not many wizards and witches managed to achieve. He was sure that Hermione Granger was able to perform one extremely well, but that she would have never tried it out.

Anyway, Draco Malfoy had just done it. An unspoken Unforgivable Curse against the unaware brunette on the other side of the Great Hall, and it had lasted long enough to let him whisper what he wanted her to do, and where to go.

No, he didn’t want her to be under his control as he pushed her against a wall and fucked her. He wanted her to shake from the fear and cry. He wanted her to beg him to let her go; if she stood still like a piece of wood that wouldn’t have been fun. He wanted her, and he wanted her awake and ready to fight him back.

Now Draco was standing next to the Charms classroom, his back against the wall and his hand on the door that divided him from the girl he wanted to take. He could feel her even through the door; her movements, her breath, her heart. He didn’t love her, but that wasn’t an obstacle to his lust.

He smirked. In his short connection with her mind he had asked her to find an empty classroom for her studies that afternoon. Now she might be in there wondering why she was sitting alone instead of being in the library with her boyfriend and her friends. She had avoided being somewhere alone from the day he had placed his hands on her soft, little body; he had noticed that and now that his spell was wearing off he hoped she was starting to panic.

Draco bit his bottom lip, he was going to take her, he couldn’t believe it. A few years before he would have been revolted by the very thought alone, but his lust for her body had considerably grown in the last few weeks and now he couldn’t contain himself anymore.

The Slytherin put his hand on the handle and pushed it down. He silently slipped into the classroom and closed the door behind him.

Hermione turned, startled by the unexpected noise. She was sitting in one of the front desks, a pile of books in front of her. “Malfoy,” she said when she noticed who the unexpected guest was.

“Granger,” Draco replied, sneering coldly for there was a hint of fear in her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I found a place where I can study in peace,” she replied, standing up and glancing at his hands, “so will you leave me alone?”

“Why don’t you go to the library?” he asked slowly, leaning against the door.

Hermione looked away. “I-I don’t know,” she stammered, bracing herself. “But I need to study, so if you can go away, I would be forever grateful.”

Draco twitched his nose. “Hmm, I don’t think I can go away,” he replied calmly as he moved his hands behind his back. Hermione heard the lock catch a couple of times, when his hands reappeared he let her have a glimpse of the key he was holding and then slid it into his pocket.

Hermione bit her bottom lip. “What do you think you are doing?” she asked, darkening.

Draco raised his eyebrows. “What does it look like?”

Hermione rummaged through her pockets. “It looks like you are searching for trou--”

“ _Accio wand_!” he cut her off, her tiny wand flying towards him, leaving a stunned Hermione on the other side of the room.

“Malfoy!” she snapped nervously. “Give it back!”

Draco smirked. “I don’t think so,” he replied calmly, “not before I’ve gotten what I want.”

“Which is?” she asked fearfully, her arms going automatically up to her chest to protect her.

“I thought that that was clear,” he replied. He looked at her from her face down to her lower abdomen and he licked his lips.

Hermione frowned. “You’re sick,” she replied, shaking her head. She turned to fretfully collect her books from the desk. Draco crossed the room with quick strides and, seizing her upper arms, he made her turn again towards him.

She screamed from fear and surprise. “Malfoy,” she protested, trying unsuccessfully to free herself from his grip. “What’s wrong with you?”

Draco didn’t reply, he smirked. He dragged her towards the closest wall and slammed her there, her shoulder blades crashing against the rocks with which the castle was built.

“Ouch!” she cried, bending her shoulders a little to ease the pain. “How dare you?” She freed her arms from his grip and pushed forcefully on his chest. “Let me go.”

He took hold of her wrists with his hands and brought them both up above her head. He bent down on her, breathing over her face. “I’ll let you go, Granger,” he said, his voice low, “as soon as I get what I want.”

“And what do you want?” she asked, trying to dig her nails into his hands.

Draco smirked. “I want to fuck you.”

Hermione’s head went back that much that she crashed against the wall, her eyes suddenly wide. “What the hell are you talking about?” she asked, her voice a bit higher than she intended it to be. “Let me go, I don’t like those kind of games.”

“You’re lucky then, because it’s no game,” he replied, bringing his head down and kissing her on the jaw. He could feel her trying to move away under his lips, and he liked it, it gave him power, and power aroused him.

She gulped. “Malfoy, you don’t want to--”

“Yes, I do,” he cut her off, whispering the words in the ear he was nibbling at, “stop worrying about me and start enjoying what I’m going to do with your little body.” He brought a knee between her legs and pushed it against her. She whimpered a little as he shoved painfully against her core.

“Malfoy,” she whimpered, trying to free her hands. “Let me go.”

Draco shook his head, bringing his knee down and then up again. He brought her wrists one next to the other, above her head and took them both in just one hand, while the other went down to her face, caressing her cheek. “I want you to scream,” he hissed, “that will make everything even more interesting.”

“Then I’ll do my best to keep my mouth shut,” she hissed back, an unexpectedly firm glare upon her face.

“Oh, no,” he replied, looking into her eyes, “I need your mouth wide open.” He gripped her chin and kissed her fiercely on her lips, closing his eyes.

She whined and tried to move away, but he didn’t leave any room for her movements. She felt his tongue licking her lips, but she kept them sealed. Draco’s eyes snapped open as he bit her bottom lip. He felt her moan and her lips and teeth parted, letting him introduce his tongue into her. He explored her with great attention, going from part to part and engaging a battle with her own tongue, which was unsuccessfully trying to keep him out.

When he let her go she was panting, her eyes shiny with little tears and her face red. “Let me go,” she half-screamed. “I’ll cry for help, if you won’t.”

“That’s exactly what I want,” he replied, turning and pointing his wand towards the door. “ _Mufflatio_!”

Hermione’s face fell as she contemplated the fact that it didn’t matter what she might scream, nobody would ever hear her. “I hate you, Malfoy,” she cried, her hands moving so convulsively under his grip that he had to bring the other hand to keep her still again.

“Thank you,” he replied, smirking. “Now, get on your knees, Granger.”

Hermione stopped moving, her eyes looking at him like a child would look at the big, bad wolf. “What?” she mouthed silently, too shocked to understand.

“I said on your knees,” he replied, bringing her hands down and forcing her to kneel.

“Malfoy, no,” she replied as her knees banged against the cold floor. “Malfoy, wait, a kiss is not much, really, I won't even tell... but whatever you are going to--”

“Shut up, Granger,” he silenced her. “Let me think about what Zabini told me…” He pointed his wand at her and seemed to think intensely about something. Suddenly, ropes flew out of nowhere and tied her up from her wrists to her elbows. “Hmm, still a bit too strong, isn’t it?” he asked her, as if he really was interested in her opinion. “I just wanted to tie up your wrists.” He shrugged slightly and took out a paper-knife from one of his pockets and cut half of the ropes, leaving her wrists linked with a couple of turns of rope. “Perfect,” he said, contemplating his work, “all I had to do was to think a bit less intensely, hadn’t I?” he asked her.

Hermione looked away. “What are you asking me for?” she questioned venomously.

“Because you are the Know-It-All here,” he replied calmly. “Anyway, move here, a bit more, yeah, that’s it.” He made her crawl in circles so that she was kneeling in front of him, and he was leaning against the wall.

He looked into her eyes as he unfastened the zip of his trousers, his hands shaking a little, and freed his erection, right in front of her face. “You see what you do to me?” he asked her, accusing her of the fact that he was aroused. “I can’t think of anything else but you.”

Hermione shook her head. “Malfoy, you don’t--”

“Shut up, I don’t care what you have to say,” he replied, bringing his hands to her hair and enlacing his fingers in her curls, making her scream with pain. He brought her face close to his cock and pressed her shut lips against its top. “Come on,” he said, pushing his hips forward, “take it.”

She moaned in protest, but when one of his hands went down to her nose and blocked out the air, she had to open her mouth to breathe. Draco jumped at the chance and made his cock slip into her mouth, deep inside, until he felt her tremble and almost choke over it.

“Good girl,” he murmured lustfully, starting to thrust his hips back and forth, while his hands kept her head firmly in place and pushed her against him. He licked his lips, as he leaned heavily against the wall for support.

Hermione brought her tied hands on his left thigh, searching for support while he was raping her mouth. She tried to close her teeth a bit to wound him in some way, but unexpectedly her plan backfired. Her teeth added more pleasure to him and she found her mouth showered with his seed before she would have expected.

She choked and coughed as he stopped moving his cock in her, emptying himself completely against her warm walls. His eyes rolled back in his head and his knees failed him a little as he slipped a few inches down the wall. “Yes,” he murmured satisfied. He let her head go and let her back away a little, his eyes half-closed with lust. “Yes,” he repeated, “not bad at all.”

He looked down at her as she coughed and sputtered his seed all over the floor, and smirked. He kneeled next to her, his cock limp between his legs. “You’ve been kind of great,” he murmured, “just a bit more collaboration next time.”

“There won’t be any next time,” she sobbed, cleaning her mouth with her tied wrists.

“Oh, of course, there’ll be,” he replied, smirking, “and guess what? That next time is going to be exactly now.”

Hermione tried to unsuccessfully stand up off the floor. “Don’t you dare,” she moaned.

He grabbed her left arm and pulled her to her feet. “I think that we understood that daring is not one of my problems, is it?” he hissed, pushing her against the closest desk.

She placed her tied up hands between the two of them and pushed at his chest. “Malfoy, I swear that if you keep up with this--”

He brought a hand to her mouth and covered it. “Don’t you understand, Granger?” he asked, smirking. “I don’t give a damn.” He pushed her shoulders down on the desk, until she was lying there in front of him, her tied hands on her chest in a useless attempt to protect herself from her rapist. “I don’t give a damn if they discover me.” He stood thoughtfully for a moment. “You should consider this as a compliment, if I don’t care to be discovered with you.”

Hermione didn’t listen to him. She tried to sit up again, but her body was shaking with fear and when Draco brought her hands above her head and tied her to one of the legs of the desk, she couldn’t do anything other than whimper and subdue, her capacity of movement almost nothing.

The blond boy took out the paper-knife that he had used before and smirked. He dragged it over her chest and watched as she followed his movements with her eyes, fear radiating from all over her body. He brought the knife down and caressed her breasts through her shirt, then he started to tear the buttons of her shirt away, letting them fall to the floor.

When the last button lay next to the others he tore the two pieces of her shirt apart, discovering her plain white bra. He smirked as he placed a hand over her breasts and pushed her bra down, exposing her two fleshy hills.

Hermione shivered and sobbed at the same time, her eyes darting quickly towards Draco. She tried to move away from his wantonly hands, but Draco didn’t let her. He kneeled on the desk next to her, and bent over her, taking each breast in a hand.

“Malfoy, please,” she begged, shivering under him and involuntary pushing her breasts up in the air.

“Of course, Granger,” he replied mockingly. He lowered his head over her and brushed his cheek against her nipples, massaging his face against them; he backed a little and then attacked them with his mouth, showering each of her nipples with his tongue.

She let out a strangled cry of half-desperation and half-fear and tried to move away, but Draco squeezed the breast that he wasn’t sucking and she stopped, this time crying out from the pain.

He started to suck and bite and lick her nipple with little circular movements of his tongue, and when he felt it became hard under his mouth, he busied himself on the other nipple, making it become red from all his sucking. Her warm chest went up and down quickly, as she sobbed in a heartbreaking way that made Draco even more aroused than before.

He licked his way to her cleavage and then, cutting her bra in the middle with the knife, he followed the path that went down to her navel, showering it with his tongue as much as he had done with her nipples. But when he placed a hand on her knee and started to go back up, Hermione moved her legs away, regaining a bit of strength and control over her body.

“No, Malfoy, no,” she murmured, crying while all her force left her voice. “Please, no.”

Draco didn’t even look up at her, he slid down from the desk and placed a hand on her lower abdomen, pushing her down on the desk to keep her in place, while with the other hand he went up the whole length of her legs, until his fingers found the soft material of her knickers.

He pushed her skirt up around her waist and hooked his fingers on her knickers, unceremoniously pulling them down her legs. Hermione screamed, her legs twitching as she tried in vain to make it difficult for him to strip her of her robes.

Draco held her legs apart, looking at the nest of curls which was already shining with her juices, she was almost turned on like she had been with Ron Weasley. Draco felt a wave of satisfaction. He brought a finger between her legs and brought it back covered with moisture, he looked attentively at it as if it were the first time that he had seen something like that.

He looked at Hermione, who was crying out loud now, and brought it to her mouth. “Lick it,” he said tonelessly, pushing his finger towards her mouth.

She tried to resist him, but he was too quick for her and before she could even understand what sick game he had invented that time, he took out his finger and brought it back between her legs, dunking it in between her folds once again, this time entering her of a few inches and pushing against her walls.

Hermione’s breath increased its pace as his finger intruded her, and she let out another sob when he brought the digit covered in juices to his mouth and tasted her, feeling even more raped than before.

“I like you,” he murmured, tasting her, “let’s see if you’re as good as your flavour promises.” He took his cock in his hand and dipped it in her moisture, then he spread her juices all over its length and positioned himself at her entrance.

Hermione raised her head as much as she could, her eyes wide. “Malfoy, no,” she whispered, “I’ve never done it...”

Draco threw his head back and laughed evilly. “Do you think that a lie like that would ever stop me, Granger?”

“It’s not a lie, Malfoy, please…”

“It is,” he thundered, “I saw you with Weasley, the other day in the Prefects’ Bathroom.”

Hermione felt like she had been slapped. Not only had he seen her in such a private moment, but the only thing she could think of to keep him from taking her had become ineffective with his few words. “You… you saw… you saw…”

“It was quite a nice view, actually,” he replied, biting his bottom lip, “but I prefer to see you here, tied up to a desk and begging me to spare you some more humiliations. This vision arouses me even more.”

“You’re a pervert,” she accused him through teary eyes.

“And you still have not seen anything,” he replied, smirking and shrugging. He caressed her breasts as he massaged his cock to make it hard again. His hands went to her legs and spread them. “I just want to be in you,” he said hoarsely.

“Malfoy, you don’t…” Her words died in her throat as he brushed the top of his cock against her clitoris. She held her breath as she felt hotness spreading from her lower abdomen when he slid inside of her. She bit her bottom lip and mentally cursed her body for responding to him. She tried the only thing she could do to at least make it difficult for him to take her and she started to move, to worm away from him.

Draco gripped her hipbones, steadying her as he pushed deeply into her folds. Hermione’s movements stopped at once, as she felt his muscle sliding deep inside her, her body caught in the firm grip of fear. She followed Draco’s gaze, and discovered with horror that he was looking at where their bodies joined. She felt him enter her until he was completely sheltered in her, and then he stayed still for a moment. Eventually, he raised his eyes to her and smirked. “You like it, don’t you?” he questioned coldly.

Hermione didn’t answer, her eyes, shining with tears, stubbornly looking away, while her chest was shaking with sobs.

He smirked and brought her legs loosely behind his back. He started to pound into her, slowly and gently at the beginning and then faster and deeper every second that passed. He looked up from the place where his cock disappeared into her, and started to gaze at her breasts that went up and down with every movement he made. He brought his hands to them and pinched the pink nipples, gripping them as if his entire life depended on that; he understood that Neville was right about them, they felt just great under his fingers.

Hermione moaned in pain, but her protests were ignored, just like they had been so far. Her limbs became weak as he thrust into her, his exposed skin covered with sweat, just like hers. He moved deeper into her, until his balls were slamming against her bottom. A new pain spread from between her legs to all the lower part of her body. She tried to move a bit to offer him a better angle and ease the pain that she had never felt with Ron’s caring movements, but all she managed to do was to permit him to penetrate her even more deeply.

He let out a grunt and Hermione convinced herself that he was going to come inside of her for the second time in just a few minutes, but quite unexpectedly he pulled out of her and rested his swollen cock on her lower abdomen, inserting the head in her navel and panting hard. His grey eyes flew up at her and he smirked as he saw her scared face streamed with tears and all flushed with unavoidable heat and pleasure.

Draco grabbed her shoulders and raised her from the desk, just the few inches the ropes permitted him to do. He made her roll on her side, and got her lying on her stomach. She tried to move in some way, easing the pain she felt at the wrists and the belly for the sudden change; he blocked her waist with a hand and bent down over her, his mouth inches away from her ear. “Let’s see if you’re a virgin here,” he whispered, sliding his hand to her bottom and caressing between her cheeks.

Hermione raised her head next to his. “No, Malfoy,” she cried, her eyes wide, “I’ve never… I swear, I’ve never… not there, please…”

“That’s exactly that I wanted to hear,” he replied, licking his lips, “I can finally break you in a place where you've never been broken.”

He straightened up, backed and used his hands to spread her bottom cheeks, fully exposing her pink hole to him, so small and tight compared to her other crack that for a moment he didn’t believe he could have entered her at all. He didn’t give up that thought though, and pointed his cock towards it. He started to stiffly push into her, slowly and almost painfully for him too.

Hermione turned her head away, leaning her forehead against the desk and screaming in pain. She tried to move, but Draco’s hands went on her hips again to steady her.

“Don’t move,” he commanded, panting from the effort of entering such a small hole, “it will only make everything more painful.” He made his hands slide under her stomach and pushed hard against her clitoris, making her raise her bottom among agonizing cries. He pushed her from the floor, her toes curling from the mixture of pain and aching pleasure. Finally he found a better angle to enter her and started to advance slowly into her.

She screamed so forcefully that if Draco hadn’t charmed the room someone surely would have heard her. She screamed until her voice became raw, until she didn’t have any more air in her lungs, until hope left her heart.

Draco ignored her, aroused by her fear more than by her body. He pushed until he couldn’t go any further, and once he was finally sheltered completely in her rear end, he stood still. She was so tight it almost hurt him, but he surely wasn’t going to go back before he had obtained the pleasure he was looking for. He started to move slowly at first, not because he wanted her to get used to him, but because her hole was still not stretched enough to let him move faster. He moved his hands away and gripped her waist possessively, pushing her towards him as he pushed his hips forward.

Little by little her few movements of struggling stopped completely under him, her body was limp and weak, as if he had sucked out all her strength. Once she had stretched to accommodate him, he pounded in her rear hole as if his life depended on it. He gripped her bottom cheeks, spread them wider and slapped them, causing some spare and weak cries of pain or begging to leave her lips. She leaned her face against the wooden desk and started to murmur incomprehensible things, prayers maybe, while her breath became shallower and her body went numb for the pain.

Eventually, Draco lost control. His cock started to throb in her hole, he threw his head back and invaded her bottom with his sperm, grunting and moaning and calling her obscene nicknames.

He collapsed over her body, still inside of her, his chest lowering and raising against her back. He brushed his cheek against her shoulder blades, but she didn’t move, her breath barely audible as tears silently streamed down her cheeks.

He laughed. “It wasn’t so bad, was it?” he panted, rolling on his back and making Hermione roll with him, lying with her over his stomach. His cock still inside of her, his hands on her belly, tightly gripping her.

She didn’t move, nor replied. She simply lay there over him, with her hands still tied and her bottom still filled with him.

He brought his hands to her breasts and started to caress and cup them possessively. She still didn’t move. Draco made one of his hands slide down her belly, until he reached between her legs and started to play with her clitoris. She didn’t whimper as he had expected her to do, she simply moved slightly, pushing her bottom against him to worm away from his hand, her head pressed against the wood of the desk.

“I broke you, didn’t I?” he asked, sneering, and sucking her neck.

Hermione didn’t reply nor gave signs showing she had understood him, she lay there without being able to do or say anything, just hoping that he would soon stop torturing her. She felt another tear tracing her cheek as she sensed a threatening heat build up inside her. She let out a soft moan when Draco pushed his thumb against her clitoris and then her walls clenched around his cock.

She was petrified now. Her last piece of dignity broke like a piece of glass under Draco’s shoe as she came for the hand of the boy that had taken her by force.

Draco laughed. “Are you scared?” he asked, kissing her cheek. This time she didn’t shiver, she didn’t move or talk back. “You mustn’t be scared. I just wanted to have you. And now that I’ve had you…” He moved his hand away from her clit and exited her, sliding out of her hole with a quick movement almost as painful as the one he used to enter her.

He stood up and pulled his pants and trousers up, fastening them around his waist. He looked at Hermione, who was lying now on her side, her abused body curled up in a ball of fleshy limbs. He untied her and looked as she pathetically tried to cover herself as much as she could with just her small hands.

He bent down over her and took her face in his hands, cupping her cheeks with his palms and raising her from the table. She looked away from him, but didn’t jerk her head away. He brought his lips up to hers and kissed her, a chaste and soft kiss that didn’t reflect what his behaviour had been up until that very moment. Then he let her go and lay her head back on the desk. He placed her wand next to her and turned on his heels, walking away.

Hermione heard him opening the door and then he was gone, leaving her naked and alone in the classroom where he had vented his lust on her unwilling body. She hid her head under her arms and started to cry, too weak even to curse Draco and everything she might have done to provoke him in such a devastating way, too weak to call the name of the one she loved and the one she hoped would have found her, too weak to hope anything at all.

Fin


End file.
